Poison Street Fighter Mouse Pads

Poison Street Fighter Mouse Pad – 12 x 14 Inches

Unleash your wild side at the desk with this bold and stylish Poison Street Fighter Mouse Pad, featuring the fierce and unforgettable femme fatale herself. Measuring a generous 12 x 14 inches, this high-performance mouse pad gives you all the space you need for fast, fluid mouse movement—whether you're gaming, designing, or working.

The surface showcases a high-resolution image of Poison in her iconic outfit: leather crop top, cut-off shorts, thigh-high boots, and that signature cap. Her confident pose and sultry expression radiate attitude, making this mouse pad both functional and visually stunning. It’s the perfect blend of street-punk style and seductive charm that Poison is known for.

Crafted with a smooth fabric top for precise tracking and a non-slip rubber base that grips your desk, it stays firmly in place during even the most intense sessions. Durable stitched edges help prevent fraying, so this pad stays looking sharp no matter how hard you push it.

Features:

* Dimensions: 12" x 14" – large size for maximum control and comfort
* Vibrant artwork featuring Poison from Street Fighter
* Smooth, low-friction surface for enhanced accuracy and speed
* Anti-slip rubber base keeps the pad firmly in place
* Stitched edges for long-lasting durability

Perfect for fans of Street Fighter, lovers of badass female characters, or anyone looking to add an extra dose of attitude to their setup. Show off your love for Poison—on the battlefield *and* at your desk.

NSFW Erotic Story – Poison's Submission Match

*Warning: The following story is intended for mature audiences only. It features adult themes, domination, and erotic content.

The underground fight club in Metro City throbbed with heat and noise, the smell of sweat, leather, and desire thick in the air. Neon lights flickered overhead as a crowd of rowdy spectators circled the crude arena, eagerly anticipating the next match. When Poison strutted into the ring, the noise hit a fever pitch.

Long pink hair flowed down her back, barely contained under her signature cap. Her leather crop top hugged her chest tight, showing off toned abs that flexed with every sultry step. Tight, ripped jean shorts clung to her hips like a second skin, and thigh-high boots thudded confidently on the mat.

Her opponent—a tall, muscular man—had heard stories about her. He thought they were exaggerated. Now, staring across the ring at her sly smile and the glint in her eyes, he wasn’t so sure.

“You ready, tough guy?” she purred, swinging her hips in a slow circle. “I like my toys a little resistant at first.”

He didn’t respond, trying to focus. But his body was already reacting to her confidence, to the way she licked her lips and ran a gloved finger slowly down her own cleavage.

The bell rang.

He came at her strong, fists up—but Poison was faster. She ducked, slid behind him, and pressed herself against his back, grinding her hips just enough to throw him off. Then she wrapped one arm around his throat and dragged him down to the mat.

"You’re already breathing heavy," she teased in his ear, tightening the hold until his body stiffened.

He bucked against her, trying to break free, but she used her legs—strong and agile—to wrap around his torso, locking him in a body triangle. With every squeeze, her inner thighs pressed tighter against his sides.

“C’mon, baby,” she whispered, her breath hot on his cheek. “Let it happen.”

He groaned, more from arousal than pain. Her scent—sweat and leather and something intoxicating—flooded his senses. She loosened her grip just enough to flip him onto his back and straddle him, pressing her full weight down onto his hips. Her crotch met his growing bulge, and she smirked when she felt him twitch beneath her.

“You’re hard for me already? You’re not even trying to win,” she mocked, grinding down slow and hard, rolling her hips.

His hands came up to push her off, but she seized his wrists and slammed them to the mat beside his head, leaning in close so her lips hovered just over his.

"You can fight me..." she murmured, licking along his jaw, "...or you can give in."

His breath hitched when she shifted, lowering herself slightly. The pressure of her body against his arousal was unbearable now. He thrust upward instinctively, desperate for more, but she pulled back just enough to deny him.

"Nuh-uh," she whispered. "Beg first."

He groaned, face flushed. “Poison, please…”

“Mmm, that’s better,” she cooed, and rewarded him by grinding harder, moving in slow, rhythmic circles.

He tried to kiss her, but she caught his chin and held him still, watching him squirm. Her dominance was absolute, and the crowd was going wild. Cameras flashed. People shouted. But all he could focus on was her—her smirk, her body, the heat building fast between them.

With a sudden twist, she spun around and sat on his face, straddling his head with her thighs. His muffled gasp sent a shiver through her.

“Submit, baby,” she moaned, rolling her hips gently over his mouth. “Use that tongue, and maybe I’ll let you come.”

Pinned beneath her, he obeyed. His hands slid up her thighs, gripping her soft yet powerful muscles. She threw her head back and moaned shamelessly, rocking against him. He licked, sucked, worshipped her with desperation, and she rode his face like a throne.

Finally, as his own arousal pulsed so hard it hurt, she dismounted and faced him again. Her chest heaved, sweat glistened on her abs.

“Say it,” she commanded, straddling his hips one last time.

He nodded, dazed. “I submit… to you.”

Poison grinned and leaned down to kiss him, deep and dirty. “Good boy,” she purred, grinding down once more. “Now I’ll give you your reward…”

The crowd around them roared as she began to move, slow and powerful, claiming him completely. For the rest of the night, there was no fight—only surrender.